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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197939">Common Ground</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadToTheWorld/pseuds/DeadToTheWorld'>DeadToTheWorld</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Injury, Injury Recovery, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Papyrus (Undertale)-centric, Worried Papyrus (Undertale), Worried Sans (Undertale)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:09:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadToTheWorld/pseuds/DeadToTheWorld</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Papyrus couldn't quite remember what happened, but he definitely remembers being in a lot of pain. Who is this person helping him, and why do they act so strangely?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Papyrus awoke to the feeling of being comfortable and warm. And initially, that was all his mind could focus on. A dull throbbing in his skull made itself known, however it wasn't so bad that he couldn't ignore it. His light-headed state didn't really allow for focusing on anything for very long anyway. </p><p>Letting out a quiet sigh, he snuggled slightly deeper into the pillow under his head. It was nice and soft, and Papyrus could easily find himself floating back to sleep within a short while. </p><p>Except that he realised something odd; </p><p>This didn't feel like his bed. His blankets felt heavier than these ones, the pillows were too small, the mattress was too hard and scratchy, like a- </p><p>Like a couch? </p><p>"When did we get couch cushions?"<br/>
He opened his eye sockets and blinked the blurriness away. Sitting up slightly, he searched for something familiar. </p><p>So this wasn't even his couch. </p><p>For starters, it was a hell of a lot nicer than the one at home. Absolutely covered in folded blankets and pillows. Papyrus would have thought of it as cosy and inviting in different circumstances. It faced outwards towards a window, the thin curtains hinting at light outside.</p><p> </p><p>Now that he thought of it, how did light even find itself in the underground? There was no obvious direction of origin. "Maybe it's just magic?" He guessed. He'd ask Sans later. Now wasn't the time to dwell on that. </p><p>He turned to look at the rest of the room. It was smaller than his sitting room, and it wasn't messy or anything but my god was it cluttered. Almost every piece of furniture was covered in random things, just as the couch kept in theme with its excessive fabric menagerie. Books, trinkets, bric-a-brac... Papyrus's gaze fell on some action figures similar to his own. </p><p>Intrigued, he went to stand up before recoiling and gasping sharply in pain. His lower leg felt like it was on fire. The pain lingered far too long and faded far too slowly - oh goodness, he hasn't broken it has he? The skeleton's eyesight was obstructed with tears from the sudden pain, but blinking them away he could see that the leg was very neatly bandaged. And that the fabric of his trousers had been ripped off, exposing it. Actually, it looked more careful than that, like the material had been cut with scissors?<br/>
Why-<br/>
Who could've- </p><p>Papyrus turned around quickly to look around the room, eyes wide and searching. But it was empty, and whoever was responsible had left. It was strange though, monsters only usually used this method of healing if their magic was low. Of course, some monsters were weaker than others. Not everyone could heal very well. Maybe the monster that found him actually had to use a lot of magic? He couldn't remember anything except pure, intense pain as he lay in the snow. Must've been in a pretty bad state then, no wonder they couldn't heal him fully. </p><p>He'd have to thank them graciously. If they came back. </p><p>But for now he was alone, with no idea where he was. So he took it upon himself to find out.<br/>
Slowly, gingerly, Papyrus tried again to stand. His leg hurt to even touch lightly - not exactly a good sign. Still he persisted, and eventually managed to get into a normal, if not a bit awkward sitting position. He found himself keeping his right foot off the ground though, hovering it just above. It hurt too much to try and do otherwise, even with little pressure. How the hell could he get up like this? He couldn't just stay here forever. It was times like this he wished monsters could use their own magic on themselves. </p><p>"Oh to hell with it."<br/>
Papyrus stood up quickly and immediately yelped as pain struck through his tibia like lightning. Frantically balancing on his left leg, his hands shot to the window sill and regained his stability. This was an absolutely terrible idea. Oh well. </p><p>He suddenly realised he was breathing heavily. Had that small amount of movement made him THAT tired? He started intensely at the pale yellow curtains. Upon inspection it seemed that they had probably once been white. He really didn't want to know how long they've been here, nor did he want to know the origin of several weird stains. Cringing slightly, he gripped one and pulled it aside. </p><p>White light rushed in and papyrus had to squint unexpectedly. His eyes must've adapted to the darkness. Opening them just a crack stung, but slowly his vision adjusted and he could see the outside clearly. </p><p>Snow. </p><p>Snowdin, he's still in snowdin! Except...</p><p> </p><p>Except, snow was all he could see ahead for what seemed like miles. No trees, no stalacmites.<br/>
Snow indeed. Papyrus didn't know whether to laugh or cry. How could he have lived here his entire life, and not recognise this area immediately? </p><p>Papyrus was suddenly pulled from his thoughts by a sound behind him. He twisted around just fast enough to see the front door closing once again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"W-wait! Don't g-!"<br/>
Papyrus tried to rush in the direction of the door, momentarily forgetting his injury. He cried out in pain again as he leaned on it too hard, and fell to the floor. Letting out a slow breath, he chose to stay there for a moment, and stared at nothing in particular. The thought of getting up and feeling more discomfort was not exactly a compelling one. </p><p>He rolled over onto his back. The ceiling was wood paneled and matched the walls, although that didn't tell him very much. Most buildings here were wood cabins, anyway.<br/>
He closed his eye sockets.<br/>
"Right. Let's look at the facts."<br/>
He was essentially trapped here, in what looked like one of the most out-of-the-way places in Snowdin. He had wandered farther into the forest than usual. It had gotten dark and he..</p><p>Couldn't.. remember..<br/>
He remembered tripping, and- </p><p>Papyrus brought a hand to his throbbing head, groaning. God knows how long he'd been lying in the snow, or how long he'd been here, or how long that person will take to come back.<br/>
Sans must be worried sick. </p><p>Wait. </p><p>...</p><p>Sans! </p><p>He shot up instantly, twisting around to face the couch and grab at it. Summoning all of his strength, Papyrus managed to pull himself upwards on the weight of one leg and clambered back onto it. Nope, his phone wasn't here. Perhaps it fell out of his pocket when he... when whatever happened to him happened.<br/>
Nothing more could be done, so reluctantly, Papyrus returned to the position he awoke in. </p><p>"I think I'll just lie here for a while." </p><p>------ </p><p>Sans had tried very hard to stay awake for once. He really, <i>really</i> had. But every minute that passed made him more anxious. Every sound made him stare expectantly at the front door. It had been... what, 6 hours now? </p><p>And yeah, he knew it was rich coming from him, but he was worried about his brother being out for so long. Papyrus would probably scoff if he heard that, and now Sans knew why he nagged all the time. Guilt was collecting in his non-existent stomach and making him feel ill. </p><p>Papyrus was never out this late. He was never out at night at all. </p><p>He must be really mad.</p><p> </p><p>So Sans did what he always did when he was feeling worried, or tired, or sad. Or if he wasn't feeling anything at all.<br/>
He took the cider from the fridge. If his brother came home and scolded him for it, at least it would be familiar. He'd be angry in the usual way.<br/>
Sans couldn't fully erase his worry, but after a while, the alcohol did make him lose focus a bit. He was warm all over, in that little state between sober and drunk. The physical feeling of guilt could finally be ignored, even if drinking added an acidic pang to it. Everything else was so nice. He could just close his eyes and relax for a second.. </p><p>And that's how Sans ended up as he is now, having woken up in the early hours of the morning. His head hurt and the couch was harder than his mattress. It made his back achy and stiff.<br/>
Every detail from last night resurfaced in his mind quickly, and he immediately missed the liminal space between waking up and remembrance. </p><p>Still feeling a bit drunk, Sans - well, drunkenly - searched the house, but he already knew Papyrus had not come back. Even when he was mad, he was still a neat freak. And everything was exactly how Sans had left it, right down to the sticky feeling of spilt cider on the carpet. </p><p>Now he was really starting to panic.<br/>
What if Papyrus was hurt, or sick, or something else?<br/>
Sans wanted to know, but he also... didn't. Because he was selfish and he'd caused this in the first place. He didn't want his racing intrusive thoughts to be confirmed. </p><p>Quickly, Sans opened the door and stepped out, breaking the peaceful silence that had fallen like snow. Looking down as it closed, he realised he wasn't wearing slippers, but couldn't quite manage to care about it. Maybe he kicked them off in his sleep or something. He walked out into the middle of the street, disrupting the perfect snowfall. The lanterns in town created a beautiful soft light that Sans couldn't care less about right now, he only cared that they allowed him to see through the full length of town. But there was nothing. </p><p>His usually pessimistic mind had thought, perhaps foolishly, that he would step outside at the perfect time to see Papyrus walking home. They could hug and Sans would apologise. His brother wouldn't have to apologise for anything. And then everything would be okay. That did not happen. God, he was so stupid. He mentally kicked himself, shifting to pocket his hands out of habit. And paused. What was-? </p><p>Oh, his phone. Right.<br/>
He stared blankly at nothing for a good second before slapping his forehead. Why hadn't he tried calling Papyrus yet? Was he actually dense?<br/>
Sans took out the phone and went as fast as he could to the contacts. His thumbs were clumsy with nerves and numbness. Finally finding 'Paps', he went to press the call button, but hovered over it.<br/>
...what if he was still mad? Surely if he wasn't, he would have at least texted to say he was okay.<br/>
Or maybe he would have come home. </p><p>Sans shook the thoughts away and sighed angrily. "Just do it, idiot." </p><p>So he did. Hearing it ring out somehow made everything better and worse at the same time. What if... no.<br/>
Papyrus is fine, he has to be. Sans tried again. It rang and stopped abruptly. That ill feeling within returned. Sounds like Papyrus had declined the call. </p><p>Small tears formed in Sans' eye sockets. His arm fell limply at his side as he stood there looking helpless and pathetic. Lost. </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>The ringtone had made them jump. Panicky hands cancelled the call.</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first Undertale fanfiction and the first piece of writing I've done in absolute years. I hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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